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Don't Lie to Me	By : Veresna Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 13611 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
CHAPTER 6: THE FIRST "DETENTION"
Snape carefully folded the completed form in half and placed it in an envelope. He waved his wand over it and the envelope closed itself, a bright red seal that Helena recognized as bearing the insignia of the Ministry of Magic appearing instantaneously upon it.
Snape noticed her rapt attention to the process. "I assure you, Miss Harrison, that I must owl this as soon as possible to the Ministry, along with a copy of my report."
"Report?"
He smiled at her ignorance. "The entire process of administering Veritaserum is very strictly controlled by the Ministry. They would hardly allow me to continue my experimentation if they were not kept informed in minute detail of my work."
She had her hands tightly clasped upon the arms of her chair and was rocking slightly back and forth. "Uh, Sir-"
He sneered. "I am terribly sorry, Miss Harrison, but you did sign the consent form. I regret to inform you that it is too late to back out now. I assure you, I now have the legal authority and magical ability to proceed with this administration of the potion." His voice, already silky dipped down to an even lower tenor. "And I shall do so with or without your cooperation," he warned, his eyes glinting dangerously.
She was blushing furiously. "Actually, I just have to ask you-" She paused again.
He waited, eyebrows raised mockingly.
She finally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I think I really need to visit the ladies room before we go on with this."
"I see." He passed a hand over his face, but he had not been able to completely hide the smirk that had played upon his face upon learning of the cause of her discomfiture.
He arose and walked around to the other side of the desk. He did not, however, approach the door out to the hallway. Instead, he walked straight to the paneled wall situated behind Helena’s chair. He pressed his fingertips lightly to one of the panels, and immediately the wall moved aside, and behind it appeared a chamber that appeared to be a bathroom.
"Be my guest, Miss Harrison," he intoned with exaggerated politeness.
She rose slowly and moved toward the newly-appeared aperture. She glanced doubtfully up at him as she approached the doorway.
"The wall will close automatically once you’re inside."
That did not appear to reassure her.
"And there will be a simple doorknob on the other side when you are ready to return."
She nodded and stepped across the threshold. Immediately, the wall closed behind her and she found herself in a small, but austerely clean bathroom containing only a white porcelain sink and toilet. She looked behind her and saw that indeed, from this perspective, an old-fashioned brass doorknob was clearly visible.
She wondered vaguely how many other hidden doorways there were scattered about the Hogwarts buildings. And she quickly decided that Snape probably knew where most of them were. No wonder he was always popping out of nowhere when you least expected him. So much for the theory that he was an animagus who flitted about in the form of a bat.
She sighed. She hadn’t really needed to use the bathroom, but as long as she was here…..
Afterwards, she washed her hands and glanced up at the small mirror that was situated on the wall above the basin.
"Hi there," she whispered tentatively.
There was no response.
That’s not much of a surprise. Can’t imagine that Snape would want a mirror constantly commenting on his yellow teeth and slimy hair.
She jumped as she heard a sharp rap on the other side of the door.
"Have you taken ill, Miss Harrison?" There wasn’t a trace of concern in his voice, but a definite hint of irritation.
"I’ll be out in a moment!" she called.
Well, she decided, she had run out of excuses to postpone the inevitable. She threw some cold water on her face, patted it dry with one of the towel that was hanging on the wall and glanced again into the mirror. Her eyes were still red from her previous crying fit, and she looked pale and apprehensive. Perhaps there was still the faint chance that he would take pity on her.
She put her hand out and turned the doorknob.
Snape was again seated at his desk and he looked up in annoyance as she emerged out of the bathroom and the wall closed automatically behind her. He showed no sign of finding her current condition worthy of comment, much less a whit of compassion.
On the top of his desk, placed near the edge closest to her chair was a small, glass vial with a matching stopper. She had seen many a similar bottle in the hospital infirmary when she had helped Madam Pomfrey stock her provisions. But the clear liquid contained within this container seemed to glow ominously in the candlelight.
"Be seated."
She sat and extended her hand out towards the bottle. She took it in her hand and studied it apprehensively. "How much of this am I supposed to take?"
"All of it," he replied grumpily.
She stared at him. "It usually only takes two or three drops of Veritaserum to have a full effect."
He glared back at here. "Yes, for the usual formulation that would be quite adequate. I have, as I said, been experimenting with adding some new ingredients to the mixture. In order to balance out the interaction between all of the ingredients, I was required to make the final potion more dilute than usual. Thus, the necessity for you to drink ALL of it."
She gingerly removed the stopper and brought the bottle to her lips. Her hand was shaking, but she managed to bring it to her lips and tip the bottle until the first few drops met the surface of her tongue. It appeared to be as bland and tasteless as water. She swallowed tentatively and looked back down at the bottle. She had barely consumed a third of the small bottle.
She raised her eyes and saw Snape frowning at her and his fingers were angrily twirling his wand in the air.
"I suggest you get on with it, Miss Harrison," he hissed.
Helena looked at his wand and sighed. She quickly tilted the bottle back again and swallowed the remaining potion. She placed the empty vial back unto the desk.
"Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?" Snape asked, putting down his hand and moving his hand back towards his quill. A blank sheet of parchment was placed on the desk in front of him.
"No, not at all." Helena blinked. There was no reason to reply to this plainly rhetorical question, and she was not aware of any desire on her part to do so, but it appeared that had no choice in the matter. Her mouth and vocal cords had quickly and instantaneously responded upon hearing a question being asked.
Snape smiled knowingly and dipped his quill into the ink well. "And how do you feel?"
"Supremely pissed off!" was her immediate and painfully honest answer.
Instead of angering him, her response seemed to be a source of amusement for Snape. He chuckled softly and moved his pen across the parchment. "Actually, I was hoping to ascertain the state of your physical well-being, but that response certainly leaves me in no doubt that the potion is having its desired effect," he noted.
"Are you really writing down everything that I’m saying?" she asked, horror mounting in her voice.
He put the quill down and smiled nastily at her for a moment, and she had never seen his eyes gleam so maliciously. Then he laughed again and replied: "Actually, no, Miss Harrison. I am merely recording my observations as to whether or not you appear to be under the influence of the potion. How uncomfortable you are about the questions and whether it appears that you have any power to refuse to answer them. How much or how little information you seem willing to reveal without additional prompting. I assure you that no one outside of this room will ever need to know what specifically what I’ve asked you. Or how you’ve responded."
He picked up the quill again. "Let’s start with something fairly innocuous, shall we?" He considered for a moment. "What is your full name?"
She swallowed. "Helena Hortensia Harrison."
He charitably tried to turn his snort into a cough. "Hortensia?"
She sighed. "I had a great-aunt named Hortense and my father had promised her to name me after her. My mother thought that Hortensia sounded marginally more mellifluous than Hortense when combined with my first and last name."
"You must be greatly indebted to your aunt for giving you such a…..unique appellation."
"I hope she’s burning in hell." Helena rolled her eyes. Great, now she was telling him things even when he wasn’t asking her a direct question.
He continued on with questions as to when and where she was born, what her favorite food was, if she had a favorite color, and whether she preferred her eggs scrambled or boiled.
"I do not recall," he began, sitting back in his chair for a moment as his eyes studied her face, "Having the pleasure of teaching any other Harrisons during my tenure here?"
"No." She hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged as if deciding she might as well answer the unspoken question before it was asked. "My birth was apparently rather difficult and my mother was advised not to risk another pregnancy." There was a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks now.
"So you are an only child," murmured Snape speculatively. "Are both of your parents are still alive?"
"Yes."
"And are Mr. and Mrs. Harrison happily married to each other?" He somehow managed to infuse a great deal of sarcasm into that query, his tone insinuating that he was highly skeptical that wedded bliss was a natural condition.
There was the slightest hesitation as she struggled, her mouth valiantly trying to fight the words that her brain was forcing upon them. "I would not say that their marriage is particularly happily."
"Hmm." He twirled the quill pensively in his hand. He appeared glad to have hit upon a sensitive area. "And yet they have remained married?"
"Yes," she hissed.
He narrowed his eyes and looked distinctly unhappy that she was limiting herself to a monosyllabic answer, ignoring his implications and refusing to rise to the bait of answering things that he had not directly asked. Apparently, he needed to probe a little more deeply into the matter to loosen her tongue. "Who do you feel closer to-your father or your mother?" he questioned sharply.
"My mother, definitely" she replied.
He noted to his satisfaction that there was a hint of panic in her eyes. "Can you think of a reason why your mother would not be happy in her marriage?"
She sighed, and her hands clenched unhappily at the arms of her chair. "Why would she be happy? She is married to a lying womanizer who screws any witch or Muggle woman that will let him," she spat out.
He smiled slightly and then leaned back in his chair and regarded her with interest. "And what is her response?"
"She closes her eyes, keeps her mouth shut and spends his money as fast as he earns it," was her bitter reply.
He squinted his eyes suspiciously "And?"
She sighed again. "And has pinned all her hopes on my becoming a Mediwitch so that I can be a strong, financially independent woman."
"Is money that important to her?"
She shook her head. "No, it’s more that she has always felt so useless and incompetent. She barely graduated from Hogwarts and has always held the opinion that she would never be able to support herself. Which is why she tried to instill me with a strong sense of self-worth and ambition."
He cupped his chin in his right hand and leaned forward over the desk, his dark eyes hooded and watching her closely.
"Don’t you want to be a Mediwitch?"
Her mouth trembled. "I do. I guess. It’s just seemed that I’ve never had a choice. I know that I could do it and be very good at it. There’s just a part of me that wants-" With difficulty she clenched her jaw and managed to control the rest of her answer "something else."
His black eyes blazed with interest. He dropped his hand from his chin and reached for his quill. He dipped it into the ink and wrote across the page. "Subject has intense willpower. Within a few minutes of questioning, she has managed to edit some of her responses to questions so that while she answers honestly, she is able to prevent herself from adding additional information."
But he was hardly going to let her get off that easily. "What else do you want, specifically?"
Her face blushed hotly. "To be an artist."
She closed her eyes, expecting to hear his roar of disdainful laughter. Instead she heard the soft whisper of pages being turned and opened her eyes to see him thoughtfully perusing the pictures located at the front of her sketchbook. The non-pornographic ones.
"You are not without some talent, Miss Harrison." His voice was soft, and free of mockery.
"Thank you," she said, so stunned that she could not prevent the response from flying out of her mouth.
He looked down at the pictures again and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, the wizarding world does not appear to put much stock into that particular skill."
"Unless you use magic to make the pictures move." was her bitter response.
"Indeed."
They were both quiet for a moment.
"Well," he drawled. "You can always be a Mediwitch who is also a talented artist. It would seem that the inverse would be rather hard to achieve."
She looked at him quizzically.
"Your artistic ability will always be there, waiting to be expounded upon. But your chance at a medical education will only come once. I suggest that a young lady of your apparent intelligence and ability should not reject that singular opportunity out of hand."
She looked shocked. He had actually given her two compliments within the last few minutes.
He frowned and threw the sketchbook back down, returning his attention to the task at hand. Which was asking her uncomfortable questions.
"Why are you doing so poorly in Potions this year?"
She gulped, startled at the abrupt shift in subject matter. "Because Ang is a lousy partner."
He snorted. "Then why not choose another?"
"Because I don’t want to hurt her feelings."
He rolled his eyes and scribbled something down on the paper. A faint smile came to the corners of his lips. Helena was certain she was not going to like the next line of questioning.
"You seemed to do very well with Mr. Thurston last year. Why not partner with him again?"
"Because then Ang would have to partner with Desmond Crowl, and they aren’t seeing each other any more."
Snape twirled his quill thoughtfully between his fingers for a moment and considered his next question carefully. "Were they lovers?"
"No. At least, I don’t think so," she replied uncertainly. Yes, she was very unhappy with this current subject. Ever since she had taken the Veritaserum, she had been increasingly aware of a slight but undeniable heat and wetness growing in the area of her groin. And her eyes were hungrily following every single movement of Snape’s nimble, deft fingers. In fact, she found herself focusing on them and wondering what…..another part of him really looked like. And hoping it was not nearly as small as she had drawn in her sketch.
He looked at her suspiciously.
"I never came out and asked her if they were, so I CAN’T tell you for sure," she explained in exasperation.
"I see."
He dropped the quill and leaned back in his chair, his hands lightly touching the desk in front of him. "Are you and Mr. Thurston lovers?"
"No!" she replied, clearly shocked by the question.
His eyes narrowed again. "Have you ever been?"
"No."
"Is he your ‘boyfriend’?" Somehow Snape managed to inflict a wealth of contempt into that word.
"No."
"Have you ever had a boyfriend, Miss Harrison?"
"No." She took a deep breath. "Sir, could you please ask me something else?"
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"Yes."
He smile was supremely unpleasant. "Good." He picked up the quill yet again and twirled it around.
Helena felt her panties becoming moist from the wetness that was oozing out of her. She began to gnaw unhappily at her thumbnail.
"I seem to remember that last year at the Yule Ball I saw you and Mr. Grammis skulking out of the rose bushes after I began blasting them," Snape remarked, coolly.
"I went to the Ball with him, but he is not, and never has been, my boyfriend," she objected.
"Then what were you doing in the rose bushes with all the others?"
She drew in a breath and wiped away a tear that had spilled down her cheek. "Everyone was going there. So, we went in and he started to kiss me," she whispered, through clenched teeth.
"Did you like that?" Snape’s voice was cold and clinical.
"Yes."
Snape’s nose quivered slightly, and he looked exactly like a leopard about to pounce upon a cowering, cornered prey.
"What didn’t you like?"
Another tear fell. "He tried to put his hands down my dress and feel my breasts."
"And?" The voice was merciless and pitiless.
"And when I pushed him away he said ‘I just wanted to see if your tits were really as big as they look!" She raised her head defiantly and stared at him, willing the tears to stop flowing, daring him to humiliate her anymore.
The eyes she looked into were dark, cold and glittering. At least he kept them trained upon her face. She had been afraid that when she looked up he would have been staring at the area of her ample bosom.
"Are you a virgin, Miss Harrison?" His voice was so soft she could barely hear it.
"Yes."
He glanced back down at her sketchbook. "I find that rather surprising, considering your current preoccupation with the act of coitus."
It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t have to answer him.
"But, perhaps, you have not as yet found a man that you want to take as a lover," he observed.
She continued her mantra. That wasn’t a question, you don’t have to answer him.
He dipped his quill back into the ink and wrote down a few more notes.
"I have just one more question to ask you, Miss Harrison."
Oh, please, please don’t ask me what I know you’re going to ask me.
"Would you like me to administer a dose of Veritaserum Antidote to you right now?"
"Yes!" She literally screamed the answer in relief.
He smirked and reached into a pocket of his robe. When he withdrew his hand, it was holding another glass vial. However, the liquid within it was an intense shade of green. He handed it over to her.
She grabbed it eagerly, threw off the stopper and gulped it down. It was chalky and bitter, but she swallowed it eagerly. She placed the empty vial on the desk.
"Did you enjoy this?"
She glared at him. An insult formed on her lips, but at the last possible moment she suppressed the urge to say it and instead spat out, "It was heavenly!"
Snape chuckled and made one final note. "It would appear that the antidote is working." He dropped his quill and picked up his wand again, waving it in the direction of the office door. Helena heard the clicks of the bolts unlocking.
"You’re free to go, Miss Harrison."
She immediately rose out of the chair, her foot hitting against the book bag as she turned to race out of the room. Angrily, she reached down to pick it up and hugged it protectively to her chest as she made her way towards the door. Her hand was already on the doorknob when she heard Snape’s voice calling to her.
"Miss Harrison?"
She bit her lip and turned back to face him.
He was writing down something on another sheet of paper. He folded it in half and held it out for her. "Give this to Miss Carver when you get back to your room.
She forced herself to retrace her steps and went to grab the sheet of paper out of his fingers. For a moment, he refused to relinquish his own hold upon the other side of the parchment.
"Your next detention will be at four o’clock on Friday. I suggest that you be prompt."
She nodded.
He released his hold upon the paper and the unexpected release caused her arm to spring back against her own body. She threw the note into her book bag without looking at it.
"Good evening, Miss Harrison."
She gritted her teeth. "Good evening, Professor Snape."
She turned, grabbed the doorknob again and twisted it angrily. She walked out and slammed the door behind her.
Snape studied the door and listened as her footsteps faded away down the hallway. "And sweet dreams," he added, a small, malicious grin on his face.
He moved his hand to pick up the discarded stopper and to carefully place it back on the empty Antidote vial. He picked up his wand again and gestured at the door, listening as the locks reset themselves. And then he dropped the wand unto the desk, sat back in his chair and moved his hand to the area of his aching crotch. He quickly unbuttoned his fly and sighed in relief as his unfettered erection sprang out of the fabric.
All in all, a most unexpectedly enlightening and arousing session, he thought to himself. It had been a most delightful surprise, of course, to discover that she was still a virgin. He sighed and threw his head back, his hand beginning to pump up and down as he sought his release.
- 5
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- 7
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Don't Lie to Me